She thought about how Wesley would have to adjust to the time difference when he returned, and if he had to undergo a bone marrow extraction, his body might not be able to handle it.
She also worried that Amelia, who didn’t want Wesley to save Noah, might try something again.
Her mind was a tangled mess.
She dozed off again, but this time slept all the way until eight o’clock.
After breakfast, before she could leave the house, two police officers arrived.
“Ms. Prisci, we suspect you are connected to an arson case from three years ago. Pleasee with us.”
Prisci’s mind buzzed nkly.
What was meant toe had finallye.
The police station.
The interrogation room.
Under the harsh light, Prisci’s face looked deathly pale. The officer in front of her wore a stern expression and knocked on the table, pulling her attention back.
He asked, “Should we call you Prisci, or Cecilia?”
Prisci’s fingers trembled, curling into her palm. With her movement, the handcuffs on her wrists made a crisp sound.
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She closed her eyes and, with great difficulty, uttered those two words.
“Cecilia.”
Cecilia was her real name.
As for Prisci, she had died in the fire three years ago.
The officer looked at the two files in his hands–one for Prisci, one for Cecilia.
In the photos, the two looked very much alike.
But their identities were worlds apart.
“Prisci died in the flower shop fire three years ago. Now, her family uses you of deliberately murdering her to assume her identity. Do you admit to this or not?”
Cecilia shook her head. “I do not admit it.”
After the fire three years ago, the police had investigated. The fire was caused by old wiring–it was an ident.
It was not murder.
The only thing she had done was to take on Prisci’s identity.
No matter how the police questioned her after that, Cecilia only shook her head.
She refused to say another word.
The police couldn’t get anything out of her and had no choice but to continue their investigation
Cecilia was detained, and during that time, Larissa came to see her
once
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“Cecilia.” As soon as Larissa saw her, she called out that name. “You, a thing from the orphanage, set fire to kill my sister just to take her ce. I will definitely avenge her.”
With just a few words, she branded Cecilia as a murderer.
She even managed to make herself look like a loving, grieving sister.
Cecilia let out a low, mockingugh. “Larissa, do you even deserve to call her Prisci?”
Larissa’s face stiffened for a moment, but she quickly regained her gracefulposure. “Maybe I don’t, but she was still my family. And you? From beginning to end, you were nothing but a rat in the gutter. Even if you wear Ms. Prisci’s skin, you’re still a rat.”
“This time, I want to see how you manage to turn things around.”
Cecilia looked at Larissa, her expression calm.
In fact, over the past three years, she had long been mentally prepared for this day.
But there was still regret in her heart.
She hadn’t fulfilled her original promise.
She hadn’t made the Holiday Series perfume famous around the world.
Nor had she managed to save Noah.
Cecilia said nothing, so all of Larissa’s threatsnded on deaf ears, leaving her frustrated.
But it didn’t matter, because Larissa wasn’t the only one who wanted Cecilia to pay.
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Chapter164
There was a line of people, all eager to make Cecilia suffer.
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Tania burst in, pointing at Cecilia and cursing through gritted teeth, “You killed my beloved daughter, you murderer!”
She looked utterly heartbroken, as if she hadn’t been the one who abandoned her daughter in the countryside for twenty years.
“Stop pretending. If you really loved Prisci, how could you not even recognize your own daughter?” Cecilia sneered coldly.
Tania’s sobs grew quieter as she tried to defend herself, “That’s because you two looked too much alike.”
Cecilia acted as if she’d heard a joke. “Did we really look so alike that even our own mother couldn’t tell us apart?”
Tania couldn’t answer. To be honest, she had already forgotten what her second daughter even looked like.
Maybe, she looked like Cecilia.
Or maybe, there were some differences.
The third person toe was Luciano.
His expression wasplicated. He wanted to ask something, but because of his amnesia, he didn’t know how.
In the end, he could only rely on what Cecilia had told him before and asked, “You said she was from the orphanage…”
“It wasn’t her, it was me.” Cecilia didn’t want to deceive this pitiful man any longer,
“I was the one who grew up in the orphanage. But the one who loved you, who gave birth to Noah for you, was her. She was the real
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Prisci ”
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